It's the fate for losers!
by mimi 007
Summary: He did not lose... No, NO!, he could not lose... They were lying, all lying! No-one, no-one at all was able to touch him! No-one!


Another one-shot in honor of Brooklyn, concerning the second battle he bey-bladed with Kai… Brookie is just so cool xD Though Kai might be better… But that doesn't matter ^^ Another for the 100 confessions competition for the team Remedy Darkness with the prompt Fate.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Beyblade, and most of this plot I can take nearly no credit for, so please don't take this away from me!

Warnings: Insanity, anger and Zeus xD

The black blade was spinning wildly, sucking in the smaller blue like a black hole. A teenager, who was normally spoken of as stoic, lied in the middle of the stadium, fear spreading on his face as he was dragged towards what he was sure would be his end along with his beloved phoenix. The other teenager, the one in the white clothes, watched the scene with a bored expression before turning his attention to other things, mumbling a few sentences to himself.

He had his victory.

It had been much harder than he had thought, but the victory was still his without needing to break a sweat. Fate was with him, always. Should he turn away? Was it too soon? Should he pay the other respect for being able to surprise him by actually make it look like he was concentrating until the very end?

He did not know how long he had been thinking, though he knew he had been speaking all the while. No matter the time, his opponent, Kai, suddenly yelled at him, and it was not the sounds of fear and submission he had thought. It was anger, determination and, worst of all, security of victory. The head covered in citrine strands turned again, looking at the other, and his eyes widened at the new aura he felt radiating from his opponent. "Excuse me?" he asked, yelling, speaking louder than he thought he was even able to.

"I said; watch me!" One foot of the other teen hit the floor loudly, breaking the ground, suddenly able to stop his certain doom. Not only that, but the blade stopped too, able to pull away from the dark energy Zeus had created. They were resisting… No-one had ever been resisting him before!

_Zeus!_ he wailed in his mind, and the bitbeast answered in an apologetic cry. The dark power rose again, only to be extinguished by another sudden rise of energy. The rebirth of the phoenix brought fire with it, and the mind of Kai made it even stronger.

Everything seemed to fall apart, and the boy screamed, feeling the life energy in him get extinguished for every hit from the blue blade to his own. Never before had he been touched in a beybattle. When his blade met its final hit, he felt the last of his life getting drained from his insides, and his knees gave in seconds later.

He was empty. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing. He had lost. He had lost… Had lost… _Lost…_

How he had gotten away from the stadium, he had no idea. He sat in his room in BEGA, Boris screaming in his face, making him feel even worse, while the rest of the team was simply standing on the side, watching how the 'secret weapon' was getting more and more destroyed.

"B-Boris…" Ming-Ming spoke, not knowing what to say but knowing enough to not let their chief continue to destroy the young teen sitting on the bed, staring at the floor. The man simply glared at her for a second, then turned back towards the white one. Having cooled down the few seconds it had taken him to turn away from the boy, he realized the girl was right. If there was the smallest chance to get Brooklyn back on his feet, he was not doing anything good.

Still, his anger and disappointment was far too great for him to let the boy be, and so, he did something far worse than anything he had done so far. His hand flew forward, and the citrine hair flew to the side when the palm hit his cheek. The whole team gasped, and Brooklyn, who had not spoken or reacted to anyone since his loss, widened his eyes in pure shock. Never before had he been hit by anyone, and he froze in the position he had ended, only holding his hit cheek weakly.

Boris had disappeared, leaving the team alone in the room. The four standing by the edge of the room had pretty good relationships to each other, while the one frozen on the bed always had been the outsider. They still felt bad for him and knew they should help, even if they could not understand this frozen gaze and expression he held. Especially Garland, who also had been subjected to the wrath of Boris for losing his battle, a battle he was proud of. But when you did not even know when you even _touched_ a person last, showing him support was very difficult.

His mind seemed to have shut down when the hand connected to his face. Three seconds later, a single tear fell down his one cheek, the first he had cried ever since he had bladed for the first time. He seemed unaware of the rest of them being there as he got to his feet wobbly and moved to the door, not looking at them. Not looking at anything. He simply moved, his body leading him away without asking his mind permission. And as suddenly and confusedly as how he had gotten to his room, he ended up lying in the grass, staring blindly into the sky. He seemed… so empty.

Fate had turned its back on him. He was supposed to live his life without ever losing. If he had lost, he had no meaning, no purpose. Every battle he ever fought was supposed to go easy, he was supposed to go through life as a shadow, always known to be there but never really noticed. A phantom king of the beyblade-world, never surpassed, never forgotten, never seen.

His purpose, his future, was lost. Something had happened, which caused destiny to turn its back to him. Last time they had met, he had destroyed the older teen easily. What had changed in these many days after?

He did not want to know. He did not want to think about that or anything else. Stretching out his hand, one of his many friends set upon it. A butterfly suddenly went to rest on his index finger, trusting him to protect it from the many dangers that could be found out in the open field. It stretched its feelers towards him, as though it knew he was so deeply hurt that his mind had closed down in order to protect him from caving in.

It moved on his finger, turning around, spreading its wings widely to show him the beautiful colors and patterns. It was black and turquoise, the blue color surrounded by the black. It was so special, so beautiful, and Brooklyn would have known its name if his mind could concentrate on more than his unending thoughts of losing and how faith had abandoned him.

In a flare of anger and irritation at the one who had slain him, he wished to crush the small, frail body of the beautiful insect. His fingers twitched in surprise of this destructive thought he had never had before and to make sure it flew away before he ended up doing the misdeed. It did not help, the creature did not move, and to protect it, he closed his eyes and forced calming thoughts into his still mind.

He had never lost a match. It was impossible. He was the strongest blader ever. He had never lost.

The butterfly finally flew away, he opened his eyes again, and half of his mind was certain that the words he had just thought were true. The other half still was trapped in the same, closed ring of destructive thoughts. If he had had more energy, he would have smacked his head against the wall until he could do so never more. If he had been sure his feet could bear him, he would have gone to the top of the BEGA-building and see if he was able to fly.

Once again, he had changed location without knowing how it had changed. His body seemed to work on its own, move on its own, though he had no recollection of eating, drinking, sleeping or doing anything else to keep alive for the last day. The circle of thoughts had become more severe as he realized the future no longer revealed itself to him.

I don't understand…

That was a sentence he heard repeated inside his head many times over the past few hours, so many that even if he had been totally sane, he would not be able to count. He sat with his arms around his knees in the corner of a training-room, seeking comfort and security in the darkness he knew so well inside his mind.

It has never happened before.

A shiver built up from the bottom of his spine and grew down again, yet he sat without even shifting from the uncomfortable position. His blue eyes stared dully at the floor so far in front of him, though he did not really see it. The only thing he saw was how his blade had been subjected to hit after hit, the images haunting him behind his eyelids. Therefore, he tried not to blink.

It's… It's just not right… Destiny… I was destined…

His insides cringed as he tried to force the future to show itself, but to no avail. Nothing helped the emptiness of his mind the visions normally filled, and he felt like crying. He was nothing… Nothing anymore.

But now… I can't see anything.

No. It was simply gone. Everything was gone. "Why…?"

He jolted out of his crouched position when something blocked his thoughts so suddenly. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the only thing able to pull him out of his current state. Kai Hiwatari.

It was as though he had grown wings, and he flew backwards without feeling his feet jumping off the ground and in towards the wall. He cried, his arms reaching up to his face and upper body to protect him from the enemy blader.

"It's okay…" the voice of the phoenix-wielder promised, and though he heard him, Brooklyn did not think more of it. He did not listen, wanted not to listen. "Do not blame yourself because no-one taught you anything different. Up until now, you have bladed using your natural ability, and that was good enough to win." The phantom moved towards him, and his whole body trembled of fear. "But is not the real world, Brooklyn. Now, you have to snap out of it and get back into reality."

Something was different, in the voice and the form, which was now crouching over his small body. But he did not look up and could not recognize the voice or the shadow of his coach, or notice the presence of his material artist teammate as he sat there with his eyes shut tightly, still keeping an arm around himself to keep the dangers away.

"Face it, Brooklyn." The voice got stronger at those words, trying to penetrate the shell that covered his mind. It was at the man's next words he understood who was talking to him. "You lost."

His head turned upwards, looking at his young coach, speaking words he wished so badly to be confirmed. "I lost? No way!" He straightened up, his eyes widening even more. "You are lying." Still, he begged the man to tell him he was right, begged him to end the pain. Begged him to agree, that his blade had never been touched. "I never lost, why are you saying this to me?"

"Face the truth, Brooklyn," Hiro repeated, his patience getting challenged. Unlike Boris, though, he knew the last thing he should do would be hitting the boy. But the teen screamed his denial, begging that the words of lies would be true so that his mind could finally rest. The launcher in Hiro's hand flew through the air as Brooklyn fended for himself, finally making the young man crack.

"That's enough! Stop acting like a big baby and stand up on your own, two feet! The sooner you face reality, the sooner we can get you back into fighting form. And the first thing I have to get through your head is what blading is all about!"

But Brooklyn could not understand, and he voiced this, though it seemed not to faze Hiro the least. Still, Garland stayed out of the teen's consciousness, as though he was simple air.

"Beyblading is about harnessing your energy. It's not about spoiled brats who think every battle should be handed to them on a silver platter because they are 'naturals'!"

"You mean… me?" the teen asked, utter confusion and surprise filling his delicate face. He did not hear his coach's outburst when the reality slowly hit him, making him laugh without even feeling the least bit amused. A sick, distorted reality. "This is all a joke, isn't it…? A big joke!" His laugh intensified as the image of the phoenix passed through his mind, and he was filled with the same feeling as when he had wished to crush the small butterfly between his fingers. "On me!"

As he walked towards the launcher he had just dismissed, he knew what had happened. Why he had lost. It was a conspiracy, from the whole world. Everyone, everything, even fate, had turned against him, tangled with the blade of his opponent, and he was going to teach them what happened to creatures who defied him. They had cheated him. And now, it was their turn to suffer.

He would show fate and _everyone else_ what happened when you cheated in _his_ battles.

Hiro was forgotten and Garland and his attempt of saving his teammate for once were never noticed as Brooklyn, filled with energy, insanity and his bitbeast's influence, fired the black blade into the air, finding a way to let go of the wrath that was drowning him.

"You will all pay!"


End file.
